Chapter 5 Talon
Crisp wind whipped through my wolf’s fur as its limbs stretched out, eager to run after so much time spent caged within me.
It was a relief to allow the beast to roam freely, to surrender my fragile control and let instinct take over.
After tracking a direworg along the wall, we finally caught up with it.
My wolf lunged, tearing the creature to shreds and sating its hunger for flesh and blood.
While the wolf fed, Ryker stood guard nearby, scanning the treeline with his scope, but allowing his gaze to flick down to his tactical watch every few seconds.
He was impatient for our shift to end so he could get back to our pet.
The wolf growled at him, annoyed by his divided focus. Distractions could get us killed.
“Chill and hurry up. I don’t know how you eat that shit. Those things are fucking gross,” he said impatiently.
The wolf growled, lowering its head and baring teeth at Ryker, territorial over the fresh kill.
“Relax, I’m not after your nasty meal. Just hurry the fuck up and scarf it down. I want to go see Kitten. Cade said we could—”
A rustle cut through the air. Leaves trembled. The sound was too heavy to be the wind.
Ryker froze, and his head snapped up toward the tree line. A split second later, branches exploded outward as a direworg launched itself from the dense forest, claws gleaming and jaws wide. It came at him fast, snarling; the ground shaking beneath its weight.
Ryker barely had time to lift his weapon.
A crack of gunfire shattered the silence and echoed through the forest. The bullet hit the creature clean between its eyes, killing it instantly.
The beast's momentum carried it forward, skidding past Ryker and across the dirt before slamming into the corpse of its mostly eaten friend. Blood sprayed, painting the ground.
“Fuck! Why are there so many of them? They’re everywhere! Where the hell are they coming from?”
My wolf considered devouring the fresh kill, but I forced the instinct down, already pretty satisfied and needing control back.
Gathering the reins, I coaxed the satiated beast inward until it receded.
The transformation came quickly, leaving me standing on two legs again, completely nude, stretching my arms above my head as joints clicked back into place.
“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to track the source, but the direworgs are getting smarter. They double back, covering their scent. I can’t figure out how they’re getting through the wall.”
“We have to report this to Cade. He’s going to make us fill out a million fucking forms. Promise me you won’t tell him until after we get to have some fun with Kitten.
I’ve been patient, but if I have to wait any longer, I think my balls are gonna explode.
They’re so blue they might’ve turned black. ”
I rolled my eyes and cracked him on the back of the head as I headed toward base.
“Hey! What the fuck, Tally? Come on, promise me!” he begged.
“Okay, okay! But only because I don’t want to wait either. And for the millionth time, stop calling me Tally!”
Ryker grinned wide, popped a toothpick into his mouth, and started humming as we walked along the length of the wall, following it back toward the Border Front Base.
I was so glad he had finally quit smoking.
The smell had been abhorrent, and I could never stand being near him when all those chemicals and toxins filled the air.
About a mile outside the base perimeter, we ran into our sentry replacements, making their way out into the wild.
I didn't recognize either of them. Both looked pretty green, younger than us by almost ten years, gripping their guns tightly and scanning every tree and rock with nervous attention.
The sight of me, nude and covered in blood, turned the smaller one white with fear as every ounce of color drained from his face.
"Keep your head on a swivel. We ran into two direworgs roughly five clicks out. There's plenty roaming the woods," I warned them.
"Thanks for the heads up," the less nervous soldier said, nodding and puffing out his chest, trying to seem brave. I couldn't help but wonder if they were replacements for the two alphas killed on patrol.
Ryker caught the way both soldiers were eyeing me with that curious and fearful kind of judgment people reserved for things they didn’t understand.
"You two can relax. He already ate a whole direworg, so I'm pretty sure he's full," he said with a smirk. "Then again, if you keep looking at him like that, I can't promise he won't get hungry. He rarely snacks on people, but he might make an exception for green recruits."
Both soldiers let out forced laughs as the smaller one paled even more. They looked at each other, unsure whether he was joking.
I rolled my eyes, warning the soldiers to be careful again before continuing east. Their heavy footsteps faded west, and when I couldn’t hear them anymore, I turned to Ryker.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” I said, stopping him with a hand on his chest.
He gave me a look, feigning confusion as he brushed my hand aside. “Do what?” he asked, waving me off like I was being dramatic.
“Play my guard dog every time someone looks at me like I’m about to sprout claws,” I said. “You don’t need to defend me. I’ve dealt with worse than a couple of rookies who don’t know what a shifter looks like up close.”
Ryker chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve seen their faces. I thought the little one was gonna pass the fuck out when I mentioned you might eat him.”
I shook my head, but the corner of my mouth twitched despite myself. “Your threats don’t help, Ryker. It only makes them hate—”
He cut me off, stopped walking, grin fading. “I’m not threatening them, Talon. I’m reminding them what respect looks like. They treat you like a fucking animal because it’s easier than admitting you’re stronger than they’ll ever be.”
“I don’t need you to fight my battles. They’ll always see me as different. You won’t change that.”
Ryker’s voice was serious for once. “Maybe not. But I can try.” His smirk slid back into place as he started walking again. “Plus, it sure is fun. I love seeing their faces when I tell them you’re going to eat them. It’s fucking hilarious."
He looked over his shoulder with a grin. "Don't lie; you like it when I defend you.” Then he shot me a quick wink. I shook my head at him.
Just outside the base, we stopped at a small creek. Ryker stood guard again while I bathed, scrubbing away the flesh and dried blood from my skin so Rowan wouldn’t faint when she saw me. I still needed a proper shower, but at least I wouldn’t look like Carrie walking in.
“Catch!” Ryker yelled, tossing me a dry bag with my uniform inside.
I kept spare clothes stashed throughout the forest for after I shifted, sealed in waterproof bags and hidden in hollow logs or buried near landmarks. Sometimes, I forgot where I’d left them. Those were the days I ended up trekking all the way back to the dorm completely naked.
Walking through the base nude did nothing to help me fit in. Soldiers whispered as I passed, thinking their low voices hid the words from my hearing.
They didn’t.
“Fucking freak” was a favorite.
I had spent so much of my life differing from everyone around me it hardly bothered me anymore.
I knew why they whispered, and it wasn’t hatred.
It was jealousy and fear. Alphas always wanted to be the biggest, the strongest, the fastest, but most of them knew I could tear them apart if it came to it.
Today, at least, only a handful of soldiers noticed me as I headed back to our dorm.
Relief washed through me as I swiped my keycard, entered the code, and stepped inside. The tension I carried eased the moment the door closed behind us, cutting us off from prying eyes and curious stares.
Rowan was curled up on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, her nose buried in a book. The sight of her loosened the tightness in my shoulders even more. Being near my mate settled something instinctive in me, a quiet sense of rightness that dulled the edge I carried everywhere else.
“Daddy’s home!” Ryker shouted as he burst through the door, throwing himself onto Rowan and tackling her into the couch cushions. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and drew in a deep breath of her scent.
“Fuckkk,” he groaned.
“Hi,” Rowan said softly, looking up at him in surprise.
She leaned into him, not fighting it the way she normally would. We had been depriving her of touch and praise as part of her punishment. Even last night, Cade had restrained himself, refusing to give in to her despite her obvious arousal.
I could smell her need through the walls and hear her desire through the shifter bond. Her thoughts were chaotic, spilling into my mind without her even realizing it. She was not very good at shutting me out yet, and her inner monologue often slipped through.
All night, she had fretted that Cade no longer wanted her.
That none of us did. Anger mixed with longing as she lay beside him, furious that he had forced her to stay in his bed but even more frustrated that he hadn't touched her.
She wanted release, and she wanted it badly.
Unfortunately, she would need to wait longer.
That was going to be the second part of her punishment, which we were about to begin.
Rowan noticed me, her eyes widening, pupils dilating. At first, I assumed she was reacting to Ryker’s wandering hands and the quiet, dirty words he murmured in her ear. Then her attention shifted. She lifted her head slightly and drew in a slow inhale.
Scenting me.
Her eyes closed. When they opened again, I recognized the look for what it was. Not arousal, but a different kind of need.
Hunger.
“You smell good,” she said, her nose flaring as she breathed me in again. Her gaze lingered. “Like… a steak dinner.”
The scent of the kill still clung to my skin, and Rowan’s wolf had noticed.
“My wolf was hungry,” I said. “It hunted a direworg while on patrol.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
“Yours is too,” I added quietly. “She needs to hunt.” I held her gaze. “I’ll take you out tomorrow night. Let you run. Let you kill. Fresh meat will sate her.”
Nerves flashed through the bond, unease rooting itself in her mind. I couldn't tell what unsettled her most, the shift, the hunt, or going into the woods at night.
Maybe it was the idea of giving in to her hunger instead of fighting it.
I pushed the thought aside and shifted my focus. “Ryker, let’s go. We need to shower quickly if you want to start.”
“Start what?” Rowan asked.
“You’ll see, Kitten. We have a surprise for you,” he said, pressing one last kiss to her throat before jumping off the couch.
“I don’t like surprises,” Rowan said, narrowing her eyes.
“Too bad, because it’s going to be so fun,” Ryker replied with devious delight as he raced me to the bathroom, desperate to shower first.
I won, slamming the door in his face.
A few minutes later I was completely relaxed in the steaming shower, kneading my sore muscles, when Ryker suddenly ripped the curtain aside and shoved past me.
“Move over. You’re taking forever. I can’t wait anymore.”
“What the hell, Ryker?”
“Seriously. You’re taking way too long. You and Cade are both obsessed with grooming.
Shampoo, conditioner, soap, way too many fucking steps.
You need to get on my routine,” he said with a grin, holding up a bottle of six-in-one men’s wash with a triumphant look.
“It does it all,” he added, pointing to the claim on the label.
I rolled my eyes and stepped aside so he could get under the stream. We usually showered next to each other at the fitness center, but this shower was definitely not big enough for both of us. Our shoulders kept brushing as we moved around.
“You’re so impatient. I promise you, our pet isn’t going anywhere.”
“Maybe I just missed you,” he said, flashing that lazy, troublemaking smile of his and shooting me a wink. I rolled my eyes again.
“Besides, Kitten’s already escaped once. I’m the only one who hasn’t fucked or marked her yet, and I’m not taking any chances,” he added.
Lathering wash in his hands, he started scrubbing himself down furiously. He didn't bother with anything else, still not understanding that conditioner was entirely different from soap or shampoo.
“By the way, you still have direworg all over your back.”
“Where?” I asked, trying to glance over my shoulder.
Ryker and I had very few boundaries, considering how often we shared women. Nudity and touch were not on the list.
“Here. Turn around,” he said as he grabbed the wash, squeezing the bottle, which made a squelching noise. Gel ran across my shoulders before he scrubbed at the dried flesh and blood on my back. “Wouldn't want you looking all feral in front of Rowan.”
“I appreciate the concern,” I replied flatly, though a faint smile ghosted across my lips. I closed my eyes, sinking into his touch.
Don't get me wrong. My favorite kind of touch was pain or inflicting pain. I thrived on sharpness, sting, burn, and slice. But I rarely received touches that were gentle, careful, or tender. Occasionally, it was nice.
I especially enjoyed the tentative way Rowan had touched me in the science lab.
It created a fascinating dynamic between us.
Where she was gentle, I was rough and bruising.
She was inexperienced, unsure of the power she held, and I was all too aware of mine.
It was almost as if we were two ends of the same spectrum, balancing one another, meant to fit together like pieces of something whole.
That kind of vanilla, conventional touch had never done much for me.
I usually screwed women from behind, preferring that they kept their hands on Ryker.
But with Rowan, it was different. I found it hard to admit, but I enjoyed her tender touch, even if I didn't know how to respond to it.
With every brush of her fingertips, I felt care, as if she were trying to soothe something deeper than craving, deeper than flesh.